The Sky, How High It Is
by Brightness Wordweaver
Summary: Trapped in Pete's World and struggling to adjust, Rose finds one small point of commonality between universes. Her response leaves Mickey understandably concerned.


**A/N: I don't own Doctor Who. I don't own Janis Joplin's song "Flower in the Sun", either, but the title and quotes in the story come from that.**

It's a Thursday, and her car won't start, and she refuses to show up late now that she's at Torchwood and her job actually matters. Mickey's in Japan and Mum refuses to go anywhere near the Torchwood Institute until the baby comes, so it's Pete who finally agrees to drive her. Volunteers, actually; he's so eager to connect with her after failing so miserably the last time she was in his universe, and she feels almost guilty for still not calling him Dad, but not guilty enough to change.

Rose slides into the passenger seat as Pete starts the car, and a blast of wailing rock chords wash over her as the CD player starts up. Pete goes to turn it off, but Rose stops him. "It's all right," she says, with a smile she hopes is reassuring. "I don't mind it." _I've heard a lot worse_, she almost says, but then doesn't, because whenever she talks about Before, Pete gets this little worried line between his eyebrows and Mum fusses and Mickey gets that hard set in his jaw, and she's learned to just not.

They think, she suspects, that talking about the Doctor and the stars hurts her, so they try to pretend that it never happened, that things have somehow always been the way they are. It does hurt to talk about it, to talk about him, but it hurts more to pretend the memories, sweet and sour, don't exist.

The rock chords give way to a woman's quiet voice, and Rose is jerked out of her thoughts, because this, _this_, she swears she's heard before.

_Once in a green time a flower...oh, fell in love with the sun._

Music in Pete's universe isn't always familiar. Some songs or singers that he knows by heart never existed in her world, and a lot of music from her side hasn't carried over quite how she would expect either. It's not rare to find a song that matches exactly, but it is always surprising.

_The passion lasted for an hour...and then she wilted from her loved one._

"Pete?" Rose asks tentatively, although she's sure she's not mistaken. "Who's this one by? It just sounds, I dunno, familiar."

Pete's ginger eyebrows crawl up his forehead a bit. "It's Janis Joplin, love. Haven't they got her where you're from, then?"

"No. No, they do."

...

_They were on Centurix 8, which the Doctor had mentioned was known for its stunning displays of landscape architecture, but which he had not mentioned was known for its sudden and unpredictable weather shifts. When they arrived, both suns were shining and the place was warmer than the estates in late July-but now, as they were walking back to the TARDIS and still a good half-mile out, it had begun to snow, coming up to their ankles in drifts._

_Rose was wet and freezing and determined not to say anything-after all, it was definitely just a little bit further to the TARDIS, and she didn't want to be complaining all the time. The Doctor noticed, though, and all of a sudden she found him shucking off that long brown coat and wrapping it around her, helping her get her arms into the sleeves._

"_You shouldn't, you're going to freeze," she protested, secretly pleased but not wanting to show it._

"_Nah, I'll be fine. Two hearts, remember? Time Lords run a little warmer than humans anyhow. 'Sides, you're the one who dressed for midsummer."_

_They kept walking, and after a moment, the Doctor started in again. "'S a good coat, y'know. Janis Joplin gave me that coat, it's a funny story..." And then he was off telling her some yarn about a misguided trip to the sixties when, apparently, he'd been blond and in possession of a painfully colorful wardrobe. _

_Rose knew he was doing it to distract her from the cold and keep her moving, but it didn't matter-the story _was _funny, and by the time they finally reached the TARDIS, she was laughing too hard to really think about _The Doctor gave me his coat. To wear.

_He'd played recordings of Janis' music after she changed into dry clothes, saying he couldn't take her there without a paradox but she should hear it anyway. Somehow they'd ended up dancing, ostensibly to warm her up, but Rose didn't care what the excuse was, just let her Doctor twirl her around and pull her close and thought about _I tried to love you in my own way, I think that you know I did_._

_She tried not to think about _Our love affair said it's just history_._

...

After hearing the song in Pete's car, Rose starts to form a plan in the back of her mind, quietly. She knows this universe doesn't have a Doctor, doesn't have Time Lords at all. But it does, evidently, have Janis Joplin, which means it just might have something else, too.

In the end, quite a bit of money has to change hands, but Rose has never really gotten over being an estates girl and hasn't been able to bring herself to spend much of her sizable Torchwood salary yet, so coming up with the funds isn't really a problem. Time, doing the right research and tracking it down, is the real cost, but that's worth it too. Worth it to finally hold the long brown coat (albeit this universe's version) in her hands, feel the weight of it settle on her shoulders.

Wrapping it around her feels like armor, like home. It doesn't have the same smell-mothballs and a faint hint of patchouli rather than TARDIS coral and tea and _Doctor_-but she can work with that.

She wears it to work the next day, and most of the Torchwood staff don't notice anything out of the ordinary (which almost hurts, that any world exists where this coat isn't immediately recognized as the Doctor's, but at least they aren't whispering and staring). Mickey, on the other hand, sees her and immediately knows what she's doing. He might not know about Janis Joplin, but he's smart enough to grasp the general points of the case.

"Don't even start with me, Mickey," Rose says when he intercepts her in the hall.

"Yeah, fat chance." He grabs her arm and steers her to one side. "Why would you do this? It's gotta be hard enough without reminding yourself every minute that he's not here."

"It's not like that," Rose protests. "It's just-it feels safe. I know it's not his, but it makes me feel better anyway."

Mickey won't leave it there. "Safe, huh? Well, our line of work, maybe that's not such a good thing. Goodness knows the Doctor always thought nothin' could touch him, and maybe it couldn't, but it can you, Rose!"

"You think just 'cause I'm wearing this thing, I'm going to start-taking extra risks or something?" Rose shouts back, flaring up.

"Maybe, maybe not. But I do think you're tryin' to be more like him, on account of him not being here. An' the last time you tried to be him-no, the last two times, I was forgettin' the one with the giant rock spaceship-you nearly got yourself killed. He's not showing up to pull the time vortex off you or chase the aliens off with a sword this time."

"Don't you think I know that?" Rose steps around him, the fabric of the coat smacking him in the legs. "You don't have to worry about me, Mickey. And Mum and Pete don't either, if they ask!"

...

Some weeks later, Mickey finds himself outside Lazarus Laboratories, restraining a hysterical woman in a gold dress as she tries to run back into the evacuated building.

"Tish!" she screams frantically. "Tish! Where are you? Get out of there!"

"She's not coming!" Mickey hollers, adjusting his grip and hauling the woman back. "I'm sorry, but she's not coming. Everyone who's gonna get out, is out."

The woman goes limp suddenly, the fight going out of her, and Mickey helps her into a sitting position on the ground.

"I'm sorry," he repeats helplessly. Why did that always seem to work so much better when the Doctor said it?

The woman sobs. "I told her, I said Lazarus was no good. No posh job is worth a man like that, hands all over you. Not for her. My only daughter..." She rocks back and forth.

An explosion from the building behind them makes Mickey jerk around, scanning for a flash of blonde hair. Even though he'd said no one else was coming out, he know Jackie will kill him if just one more person doesn't run through that door.

Another explosion, and an ear-splitting, inhuman shriek. Rose comes sprinting out of Lazarus Laboratories, manic grin etched on her face and long brown coat flying behind her. She takes a flying leap off the stairs, hitting the dirt just as the entire building exploded into a fiery inferno.

The woman in the gold dress lets out another wail. Mickey pats her vaguely on the shoulder as he gets to his feet, and runs to where Rose is lying. She's rolled onto her back and is looking up at the stars, coat splayed beneath her and arms spread-eagled.

Mickey stretches out a hand, helps her up. "Cutting it kind of close on that one, weren't you?"

"Ah, where's your sense of drama, Mickey Smith?" He winces at her tone, but she drops it and speaks more seriously. "Best get away quietly before anyone comes sniffing. Cleanup crew's on its way, and Pete's got all the usual answers ready."

"Yeah, can't have the general public knowing his little girl goes around killing monsters," Mickey half-jokes.

"'S not funny. I didn't want to kill him; he was brilliant."

"And mad."

"Yeah, definitely mad."

Mickey's eyes travel downwards. "Coat's not even singed."

Rose shrugs.

"Seriously, though, you've been to the ends of the earth and back in that thing, an' it barely looks worn."

"Just leave it, Mickey."

They walk home in silence, under the high, clear sky.


End file.
